


Declinations

by tententen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Zevran Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tententen/pseuds/tententen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran considers an interesting offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Declinations

**Author's Note:**

> A short drabble for #zevran week

Zevran looked from the letter to his love where she lay, dozing comfortably, swollen from their persistence. He hadn't expected this, not after the night he'd found her sitting stupidly in her own blood.

She'd been fine with the one child, happy with their daughter and their lives, but he'd wanted more. He'd wanted to push his luck, to see just how much happier he could be. It was his own selfishness that put her at risk, no matter how much she agreed with the decision. He was the intruder on what could very well be a reasonably easy life. He'd gotten a craving of something that had always been beyond him. Whenever Zevran remembered her eyes the first time it happened, wide with confused horror, a dark voice told him to give him up. He could just try looking up one of his many partners, after all. Surely there were other children out there who were his own doing - consequences of missions and simple pleasure alike, elfblooded outcasts raised by suspicious fathers or worse. Born to mothers with dead husbands and lovers, women once anguished, but unburdened by the taint making another child impossible.

There was no way for Zevran to forget that his time with her was limited. Over the years he had started to see its effects in her eyes. Still, Isena insisted. Laughed, even. It was sweet, she thought, that he wanted another child. She wished she could give him ten. They could have their own clan and travel the world, making a living by stealing from wealthy assholes that crossed their path. He smiled and praised her fantasy for them, though Zevran wasn't even sure that she could give him more than the one. Six years of persistent, careless, exhausted work had led to nothing. That was until they found a mage who offered her assistance with the right price. They'd followed the regimen, worn the charms, did everything they were supposed to until the process became taxing and exhausting. And then, when Isena's bleeding became late, their excitement had rejuvenated them.

The worst time came when could see the makings of his child under her blouse, her stomach just starting to become rounder when she'd lost the child. Zevran still wasn't sure what had happened to her. He'd extinguished something in her with his pursuits. He didn't want to do it again, to snuff her out entirely. The thought killed him. It almost put him back in the darkness that crept through his thoughts. But she had still been just bright enough to keep him moving forward. When she became pregnant again, he'd been terrified that it wouldn't last. She would lose it just like always, if things didn't end up worse this time.

Yet, there she was, still holding on. It was more exhausting this time around, with poultices and therapies, but Isena submitted to the bedrest despite how restless she was. Zevran placated her with his own stories. It was the least he could do, being here for her. It was what he wanted to do, spending every day that he could before the Calling took her. Her time was valuable and their time was precious. The world could wait. It didn't much matter, anyway. Not when he had Isena and Larani, and whomever this third treasure would be.

Their firstborn was asleep on her mother's chest, her body sprawled over Isena, her nose turned up against her mother's throat. It didn't look like a comfortable way to doze, but they both stirred whenever Zevran attempted moving her. They snored quietly, completely oblivious to the fact that it was early afternoon. Zevran smiled as he watched them, taking his time to memorize the image before he returned his attention to Leliana's letter.

"Dear Nightingale..." Zevran sighed as he wrote. He had to admit that he was intrigued at the thought of lending his services to her Inquisition, but not enough to do so now. Perhaps Isena would indulge him, yet again, and they could find the time to stop by Haven. Until then, he was happy to bask in the glory of his awesome family. "I must humbly decline your offer."


End file.
